


real love, i'm searching for a real love

by asymptotes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Swearing, brand name dropping, slight angst, super rich kid au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 11:40:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asymptotes/pseuds/asymptotes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>so this is a super rich kids au with ziall and a side of larry</p>
<p>based on the frank ocean song</p>
<p>if you haven't listened to frank, or the song</p>
<p>change that: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RJIr8YiK3_Y</p>
            </blockquote>





	real love, i'm searching for a real love

Zayn knows how lucky they are – all of them. Considering the lives of 99% of the rest of the population, they had it made.

Parents that were only present enough to provide cash, amazing parties, and enough drugs to keep them satisfied on the off chance that things didn’t go their way.

  
I should be happy, Zayn thinks, looking out from the rooftop to the gleaming city below. But he’s not,not really. There was something missing, but there at the same time. Like the ghost of a hand on his leg, or a distinct tickle at the back of your throat.

 

The brooding boy took one last drag of his Marlboro cigarette then walked back inside, squinting, his eyes adjusting from the afternoon sunlight to the dim inside.

  
Niall and Harry were in the living room of course. They’re sitting, almost sinking into a plush cream-colored couch in silence. Harry’s bare feet are propped up on the glass coffee table and he’s flicking through thousands of channels on the flat screen, his emotionless face being illuminated with a different world every second.

  
Niall is half on the floor beside him, his head resting on the couch. His impossibly blue eyes are staring at the ceiling and there is a serene smile on his face.  
Neither seems to react as Zayn steps into the room, though his feet send echoes throughout the spacious condo.

“You guys are bleak,” he says.

Harry switches of the TV and turns to his friend.

 

“What was that, mate?”

 

“I swear you’re still in the same position, as you were when I went on the patio for a smoke,” Zayn glances down at his Rolex, “forty minutes ago.”

 

“Whatever, mate, you know as they say. When in condo, do as the condominions do,” Harry replies in an easy sing-song voice.

Zayn scoffs.

Niall chooses that moment to get up. He stretches lazily and Zayn sees a flicker of pale skin above the blonds’ CK boxers that disappears too quickly.

Zayn's stomach clenches and he looks away.

  
“Oh hey, Zayn,” Niall offers, his voice light.

  
Zayn nods in reply and watches as the boy meanders over to the bar, feet silent on the tile floor. He turns around, wine and glass in hand, looking between his two friends silently.

 

“What were you two getting on about?”

  
The two other boys say nothing, and Harry rolls his eyes, switching on the TV again. It was almost manic.

  
Zayn narrows his eyes as Niall sniffles, once, twice, and he gets it.

 

  
“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.”

 

  
Niall turns around, stricken. His blue eyes are rimmed with red. They widen as he sees Zayn’s stormy expression.

  
“W-what’s the problem, mate?” The blond boy hazards a quick glance to the coffee table, where Harry’s pampered feet are still perched, betraying himself.

  
Zayn steps past Niall, his stomach sinking. He looks down at the coffee table again. One and a half thin parallel lines of white powder are arranged neatly beside the remote controller.

  
“Is that- is that coke?” he asks incredulously. The question sounds stupid as it leaves his mouth. Of course it was coke.

  
Niall freezes and his cheeks go pink. His mouth forms a small “o”. He probably couldn’t answer if he tried.

  
The question is still hanging in the air between them when Harry cuts the silence.

  
“Uh, yeah, mate,” he drawls nonchalantly.

  
Harry gets up, glass in hand, and walks over to Niall, who still looks stricken but is moving, running a visibly shaking hand through his already-mussed hair. The curly-haired boy holds out his glass and nods curtly.

Niall pours.

  
Zayn could tell Harry was enjoying this moment. Soaking up the theatricality of it. It was always a show with Harry, it seemed. He lopes over to Zayn, a sly smirk on his face.

  
“Don’t act like you’ve never seen it before.”

  
The taller boy feels his heart rate spike. Harry could be so insensitive at times. If they weren’t so close, he would punch him in the face.

Instead he steps back and looks at Niall again.

  
Niall’s face seemed to be a shadow of the bright sun that it usually was. It now reminded of Zayn of an eclipse. He could still see the bright parts on the edges. On the perimeter of his being.

Barely.

The blonds' eyes were looking somewhere behind the thin boys form, near the ground for a moment, then up at Zayn’s eyes. Brown meeting blue.

  
Zayn tried to hold Niall’s gaze as long as possible. Through all of the crazy shit that happened in their supposedly amazing lives, he just wanted Niall look back.

  
And he did. Until he looked up at the chandelier hanging above them as if suddenly perplexed, fascinated and humbled by the karat count.

  
Niall wasn't really one for confrontation.

“Whatever,” Zayn mumbled, stepping back. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

  
The two other boys don’t say anything to stop him.

  
When Zayn returns to the room a while later, hair still damp, Harry and Niall are gone.

  
He can’t help but notice that the white lines are gone too.

*

  
The next day, Harry and Louis pull up to Zayn’s house, tires sending a loud screech into the air as the Jaguar brakes in the circular driveway.

  
Harry turns to the passenger seat. The wispy haired-teen doesn’t even register that the car has stopped, as he’s too busy typing away on his iPhone. There was going to be a surprise party at Liam’s later to celebrate him getting his boating license. They celebrate everything they can really. It’s what they do.

And Louis was usually at the center of the celebration.

  
Louis finishes a text with a flourish and looks out the window to the house.

  
“I can’t get over how quaint Zayn’s place is” he quips.

  
Harry lowered his Ray-bans and stared up at the familiar Ionic pillars, the stucco roof, and the impossibly green manicured lawn. Being a pharmaceutical executive definitely payed well. He reminded himself to pay Ms. Malik his compliments next time he saw her at an event.

  
"Yeah,” Harry agrees. He returns his sunglasses to his nose and doesn’t say anything for a moment.

  
Harry feels an uncertainty in the pit in his stomach. He hasn’t had to have a serious chat with Zayn since middle school.  
And the already imposing front doors seemed a mile away.

  
“Oh Christ. You haven’t spoken to him since the incident at the condo have you?” Louis barks. Louis was always good at telling what Harry was thinking.

  
Harry leans back on the hot leather upholstery with a huff.

  
“There’s nothing to say, Lou. It was a massive misunderstanding. Still not sure what the big deal is anyways.” He grumbles the last part under his breath.

  
Louis gives Harry a side-long glare.

  
“The big deal is the the blow, you twat. I mean what would you do if you saw me doing coke at 6 in the afternoon, babe?”

  
Harry looks over at Louis and smirks.

  
“I’d tell you to shove over and stop being a hog.”

  
The older boy fought off a grin, sighed and looked over at his friend with steely blue eyes. Harry knew that look. It was the rare time Louis was serious.

  
“That bad, then.”

  
Louis flipped down the car mirror on his side and started tinkering with his fringe.

  
“Pretty sure. Zayn hasn’t said anything to me. Just go in there and talk to him. There’s no way he won’t be at this party.”

  
When Harry didn't move, Louis placesd a hand on his knee and squeezed.

  
“Go.”

  
“Alright, alright. I’ll talk to the sod.”

  
Harry couldn’t argue with Louis touching him like that anyways.

He shuts the car door with all the care of a kid who had two more cars of the like at home.

  
Louis watches his boyfriend/best friend/fuck-buddy walk up the marble front steps appreciatively and cat-called, leaning out the window on the drivers side, his tanned arm resting on the open window.

  
“Hate to see you leave, but love to watch you go!” He bellows.

  
God, he loves his life.

  
One of the gardeners turned and looked in the direction of the car, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun. Louis rolled his eyes. Let them stare.

  
“Oh, piss off.” Harry calls from the door, raising an offensive finger. He pulls up his Diesels grudgingly and knocks the door-knocker.

  
Louis smirks and begins fiddling with his hair in the car mirror again. Harry would pay for that later.

**Author's Note:**

> i plan on posting this in parts
> 
> (i'm so bad with keeping focus in my fics, i'm sorry)


End file.
